The Room
by Ravenclawseeker1
Summary: Harry and Draco are locked inside a room together, with no one to see or hear what goes on. This is the battle we've all been waiting for...or is it?


"OPEN YOU STUPID DOOR!!!"  
  
But the shouting and banging would do Harry no good---simply left him out of breath and bruised. He kicked the door one last time---really hard---but it would still do no good. That door was jammed shut. By who, or what, Harry didn't know.  
  
All he knew was this: he could have been trapped in here with his friends. That would have been somewhat fun. He could have been in here with one of Hagrid's "pets" (Harry tried hard not to let the memories of Fluffy, and Blast-Ended Skrewts enter his mind)--which would have been irritating, and maybe painful...but still more tolerable then this.  
  
Save for Lord Voldemort, Harry could think of nothing else he would rather be trapped with, then who he was with right now.  
  
The cold voice spread through him like ice. "Is that all you've got??"  
  
Harry clenched and unclenched his fists as he stormed around--reluctantly--to stare at the mass of platinum blonde hair that was Draco Malfoy. All he could see of him was from the tiny crack in the door that emitted a little light, but it was enough to make his insides boil. His biggest enemy...and right now, his fellow prisoner.  
  
In a voice equally as icy, Harry replied, "Feel free to try, but it'll still be just as stuck."  
  
Draco brushed past him, rolling his eyes. He pulled out his wand and tried an unlocking charm. "ALOHAMORA!" he shouted.  
  
Sparks flew from his wand, but the door did not open. Harry secretly would not admit to himself that he was a bit unnerved---Draco was armed, he wasn't. And Draco had never shown sympathy for anyone, let alone Harry.  
  
"The door isn't locked, Malfoy, it's jammed!" Harry called. "Guess pushing me in the hall wasn't the smartest idea."  
  
"How was I supposed to know I would trip over you?" he spat. "And I could swear to you this door wasn't there when I got the idea."  
  
"Well in this school, I guess you never know," Harry sighed. He motioned towards the door. "Hear anyone outside?"  
  
Draco shook his head. "Not even one of the ghosts."  
  
Harry laughed to himself. "Well Professor Trelawney did say I would have a bad week..."  
  
"That old twit was right for once, wait until my father hears about this he'll---"  
  
"Forget you're stupid father, he can't do anything to get this door open, now can he? Unless he's taken up wandering in the corridors, now that Dark Arts are so unpopular!" Harry spat. He then remembered that Draco had the wand, and regretted it. Draco definitely wouldn't hesitate to jinx him. Or worse.  
  
As if Malfoy could read his mind, his grip on the wand became so tight that his knuckles turned white. He had the power in this situation and he knew it. "At least I have a father! You shut up now before I wipe that mouth of yours right off your face! No mouth, that disgusting scar---you'd be even more of a freak!"  
  
The only think thicker then the tension between the two, was the complete silence. The room was about the size of his bedroom back on Privet Drive. Harry slunk into one corner, amusing himself by watching a small spider crawling through the cracks in the stone. Draco situated himself near the door, occasionally letting his wand flash red sparks, in hope that a straggler walking the corridors would see.  
  
Harry realized the fingers of one hand had found their way up to his forehead and were tracing the scar over and over. It had been a habit when he was little---he used to like to trace it as a game. Then he learned where he had gotten it, and wanted to touch it as little as possible, as if touching it would bring it's creator back...the one man Harry feared more then anyone.  
  
Minutes passed, but for Harry it felt like hours. And still he found himself tracing his scar. Why was he doing it? Now again aware of the action, he placed his hand inside the pocket of his robes. The silence was starting to get to him---and as much as he didn't want to admit it, he would much rather be in potions right now--which was where he was supposed to be. At least Ron and Hermione would be there.  
  
Finally the silence became unbearable, and Harry spoke simply to hear sound. "It's had to have been at least 20 minutes. People had to have realized we're gone."  
  
"And went off to kill each other," Malfoy muttered.  
  
"Surprised you haven't tried yet."  
  
Malfoy turned to look at him. "Yet," he chuckled, but despite this, placed the wand back in his pocket. "Like you said, people should have started to look. We'll probably be out soon. I'll save the jinx for when we have an audience."  
  
Harry didn't find it funny, but was glad the wand was now away. He sighed. "Why in the world did you push me, anyway?"  
  
Malfoy shrugged. "You were there, I guess. It was really Goyle's idea. I'll have to thank him later," he added cynically.  
  
"For thinking of new ways to hurt me and embarrass me? Yeah I can see why you two are friends."  
  
"I was being sarcastic," Malfoy shot back. Then after a moment he added, "They dared me to do it, Crabbe and Goyle. I couldn't say no, I'd seem soft."  
  
"Soft?" said Harry. "Why...like they'd leave you if you didn't do something, because you didn't want to?"  
  
Malfoy actually laughed. "They're not my friends, like Weasly and Granger are to you. They're lackeys, simple as that. They hang around with me because I'm so-called 'popular,' I guess."  
  
Once again, Malfoy laughed to himself. "Ambitious and power-hungry, that's what we Slytherins are---they follow the one with the most power, in hopes that they'll gain some themselves."  
  
Is he actually jealous? Harry asked himself, but immediately dismissed it---jealousy was a human emotion. But just the same...  
  
"What do you mean?" Harry asked him.  
  
Draco sighed. "If I were...I don't know, hurt, or lost, or...trapped inside a stupid room," he waved his hand around for emphasis, "they would come look for me, but only to make themselves look better. But I'd bet you Weasley and Granger are genuinely worried about you."  
  
Malfoy sighed again. "Gryffindor; the brave and pure of heart..."  
  
"You know, the Sorting Hat almost put me in Slytherin," Harry said quietly.  
  
He couldn't believe he had just said that. Not even Ron or Hermione knew that. But for some reason he had been driven to tell Malfoy.  
  
His eyes widened in surprise. "You? The brave and wonderful Harry Potter? In Slytherin?"  
  
Harry nodded. "The hat was seriously considering it. But I begged---and I guess it heard my thoughts."  
  
Harry heard the Sorting Hat inside his head, as he spoke the words aloud. " 'Not Slytherin, eh? You could be great, it's all here in your head. And Slytherin would help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that. Well if you're sure...better be Gryffindor'...thats what the hat had said."  
  
"The hat didn't even have to be placed on my head. It knew all I was about even before that---mean and power-hungry, that's all I am, right? I'm so heartless I don't even need friends, or a father that actually cares..."  
  
Harry couldn't believe he actually felt a bit of pity, in some remote corner of his mind. It was scary, but he actually pitied Draco Malfoy.  
  
"You still have a father, at least," Harry reminded him.  
  
"Ohh," Draco said. "Look, I'm sorry about that crack before. That was really low."  
  
Harry double-taked. Malfoy...apologizing? And by the tiny amount of light that illuminated Draco's face, he looked genuinely sorry too.  
  
Malfoy also seemed to realize the lack of light. "Hold on a sec," he murmured. He pulled out his wand and muttered, "lumos."  
  
The tiny room became brighter as a beam of light came from his wand. He set it on the ground between them. "That's a bit better."  
  
Harry was surprised to see Draco actually smiling, and even more surprised that he smiled back. "Yeah, thanks."  
  
Once again the room was silent. Neither one had anything to say, for that meant swallowing their own pride and realizing they were actually being nice to each other. Once again, minutes passed, and Harry found himself once again tracing the bolt of lightning branded into his forehead.  
  
"I wouldn't be able to look at myself in the mirror," said Draco. "Seeing that scar, knowing that the day I got that was the day my parents were killed..."  
  
"Believe me, it's not easy," he answered. "Before I knew how I got it...that Voldemort gave me it...I used to think of it as a battle scar. Something cool. But then I found out...everything...and I hated it. I hated him for giving me it, for taking away my parents...for killing so many innocent people!"  
  
"How did you think I felt when I realized my father helped him?!" Draco said. "Most people think that I'm on the Dark Side, like my dad. God, I'm fifteen years old, I don't even know what I'm gonna do for Christmas holidays, let alone my life! But I know I'm not joining the Dark Side---my father would kill me if he heard me say that. But people will always assume I'm evil, just because I'm a Malfoy..." he trailed off. "Ever feel like you're a slave to your name?"  
  
Harry chuckled. "You're asking 'the boy who lived!' You think I wouldn't love to go unrecognized, for just one day? I don't like being a celebrity. I just wanna be with my friends, play Quidditch...be myself."  
  
Harry saw, by the dim light of the wand, that Malfoy smiled again. "You are being yourself...and you'd be amazed how many people admire you for it. You're loyal to your friends, you're dedicated, you're a good person...a lot of people look up to you."  
  
And in a much quieter voice he added, "I look up to you."  
  
If a few hours ago someone had told Harry that he and Malfoy would be having this conversation, he would have burst out laughing. Even now, he was shocked to hear that the boy who terrorized his life secretly admired him.  
  
"You have a funny way of showing it," Harry said.  
  
"Once again, I know I don't do the right thing. I envied you---you'd been at Hogwarts not less then 10 minutes and you already had a best friend. I've been here 5 years and still haven't gotten anything close."  
  
Draco was silent a moment, but then continued. "I did what I knew how to do best. I was cruel, to make myself feel better. Yeah, it was wrong---but did I care? Of course not...I was...am...so god-damned insecure I didn't care I was making someone else miserable, as long as I made myself feel better!"  
  
Once again, silence. Not because of hated, or pride, but out of pure shock. Finally the two spoke.  
  
"I'm sorry," both said at the same time, then smiled.  
  
The sound of the door opening behind them startled them both, but the door swung open and the tiny room filled with light. Snape, Dumbledore, and the remainder of their Potions class were standing there---all curious to see what type of Potter-Malfoy brawl had occurred. Some even seemed disappointed that neither one was scratched or bruised.  
  
"Twenty points from Gryffindor, Potter, for causing this whole mess!" Snape snapped. "Do you have any idea how much trouble this prank of yours has caused?!"  
  
"Professor--" Malfoy interrupted. "It wasn't Potter's fault. I--we--both sort of tripped."  
  
Snape looked like a child that had been denied his Christmas present, but, with Dumbledore present, he obliged. "Very well...no points shall be deducted. Just make sure it never happens again. Go on--on to your next class!"  
  
Crabbe and Goyle rushed over to Malfoy, just as Ron and Hermione came over to Harry. The three of them could distinctly head Goyle muttering "nice move...taking the blame off Potter! Made yourself look better in front of Dumbledore!"  
  
"How disgusting!" Hermione sneered at the three Slytherins. "Some things will never change."  
  
"I believe, for once, you are wrong, Miss Granger," a voice said from behind.  
  
Dumbledore was standing before them. "Yes, some things will never change. But then again, maybe they weren't that way to begin with," he smiled. "Go on, on to your next class!"  
  
The three of them began to walk towards Transfiguration, but Harry stopped. "I'll meet you there!" he called as he went back to Dumbledore.  
  
"Yes, Mister Potter?"  
  
"Professor--that door--that room--I, um..." Harry began, looking at where the door had been. It was now a solid wall.  
  
"That room, I'm sure, has disappeared. However, I hope that your experiences inside it with Mister Malfoy will not."  
  
Dumbledore winked at Harry, and Harry smiled back. "Things aren't always as they seem, I guess."  
  
"Or maybe we were just looking at them the wrong way. Off to class, Potter."  
  
Harry looked at the solid stone wall one last time, trying to remember the jammed door and what had gone on behind it, before running up to join his friends. 


End file.
